Return to Hamunaptra
by Dark Rose of Heaven
Summary: Alternate ending for The Mummy Returns. The O'Connells, Jonathan, Imhotep, and OC Jasmine journey to the City of the Dead to uncover the secrets of the fabled Eye of Sekhmet, and find more than they bargained for... ON PERMANENT HIATUS.
1. Edge of Hades

**Thanks so much to Llarian for suggesting the use of real Ancient Egyptian and to Estora for cheering me on. You guys rock! Disclaimer...I own Jasmine, nothing else so far except for the odd Ancient Egyptian word I couldn't find elsewhere. Thanks for reading, and enjoy! -Dark Rose**

**Prologue**

**Edge of Hades**

"Rick, come _on_!" Evy screamed over the crashing off the stone and the howls of the demons. But her husband stood poised, unmovable, watching the man clinging desperately to the lip of Hell.

O'Connell's blue-hazel eyes were fixed on the intense bronze of Imhotep's, though the Ancient Egyptian's were flooded with tears. It was a sight Rick had never thought he'd see, and part of him was reveling in it. The other part, however, still heard Imhotep's anguished cry of "Niy!" as Anuk-sun-amun turned and fled.

Imhotep's heart was in turmoil. His beloved had left him, he was at last facing the final stage of the Afterlife… and O'Connell was still standing there, watching him. Why?

"Khi?" he whispered, staring back into the face of his enemy. "Khi irik n pri?" Why? Why do you not go?

"That's a very good question," Evy murmured, feeling a strange sense of peace despite the shouts of her brother and son ringing in her ears. Glancing back in acknowledgement, she stood on tiptoe and whispered in her husband's ear: "Make whatever choice you must, but choose quickly. We haven't much time left."

Rick turned his head, and for one excruciating second their eyes held.

"Thank you," he told her before releasing her hand and going down on his belly to grasp the slipping Imhotep's hand, trembling on the edge of Hades.

"Why? Mdu ni!" Imhotep demanded. _(Tell me!_ Literally, _speak to me)_

"Later, partner," O'Connell replied grimly. "But whether you come with us or not is your choice to make."

"Now there is one choice: thi," the High Priest responded as he was dragged back up out of the fiery pit of demons. Evelyn grasped Rick's free hand as he stood back up, and together the three of them dashed unheeding across the minefield of falling stone and masonry. _(Go.)_

Evy read her brother's face as the five of them found their way through the maze that was the pyramid, and it showed clear confusion. But there was no time to explain. What Imhotep had said was right: their only option was to get out.

They all halted just outside the central chamber on instinct. It was as though some Hellish wind was sucking all its Earthly demons through the center of the pyramid and into the crevice they had been standing at minutes before. All was green, shrieking confusion – and then Imhotep made a terrifying announcement.

"Šms wi." _(Follow me.)_

"Are you crazy?!" Rick shouted above the howls of the demons. "You've tried to kill us and take over the world twice all ready!"

The High Priest's reply shook them all. "Nttn siaa pa waat?" _(You know the way?)_

"But –"

"Rick."

"Evy!"

"Please, Rick," Evelyn pleaded. "We have no other choice. Do you even know the way out? Because I don't."

Her statement stopped O'Connell in his tracks. After a second of trying desperately to find another way and failing, he agreed. "But I swear… if you lead us wrong, you won't be getting away with it. You're still mortal, you know." Imhotep just nodded.

With Imhotep in the lead, they made their way through the chaos, following the only clear path allotted them. When they felt the tearing wind from outside against the faces and picking at their clothes, they immediately began to walk faster.

"Niy! Aab!" _(No! Stop!)_ Imhotep thrust his arm across the opening, forcing them to halt their frantic pace. "Straight drop. Carefuh."

From then on it was do or die. Demons swarmed by the thousands into any and every entrance available, including minor cracks and weathered holes, so every time they clambered up another level of the ancient structure, they had to watch for danger. It wasn't the fastest was to go, but any other way would have killed them.

"Good going partner," O'Connell said sarcastically once they had reached the top, "but how are we going to get off? Last I looked, ol' Anubis didn't exactly return your 'godly powers.'"

"I did my part," Imhotep replied hotly. "I got us out. Tn phr." _(Your turn.)_

Before O'Connell could reply, a tremendous _whoosh_ was heard behind them. Spinning around, they found themselves staring up at the dirigible.

"Hot air, my friend!" Izzy shouted. "Now get on!"

"Alex first," Rick ordered, hauling his son up and depositing him a trifle roughly into the whirring contraption. Evy went next, followed by Jonathan and then Rick himself. Imhotep was halfway in, and the dirigible beginning to rise edgily, when Jonathan tripped on a pile of rope and fell over the side. Imhotep managed to grab his pant leg just in time.

"Pull me up pull me up pull me up!" Jonathan screamed. Then he caught sight of the tremendous diamond still perched precariously on the shaking stone. "Put me down put me down put me down!" he contradicted himself. Izzy groaned.

"Why? You want to die, eh?"

"It's not worth your life!" O'Connell yelled over the fury of Hades and the whirring of the engine.

"Yes… it… unngh… is!" Jonathan declared triumphantly, his hands gripping the gold bracket that hugged the jewel as it detached from the top of the pyramid.

Imhotep rolled his eyes as he pulled Jonathan and himself to safety. Once on the deck of the dirigible, he collapsed against the aft mast and fell asleep almost instantly to the sound of Jonathan and Izzy bickering.

He dreamed of Anuk-sun-amun and her face as she ran from him.


	2. In Cairo

**Return to Hamunaptra**

**One**

**In Cairo**

"Evy, what are we going to do with him?"

The question roused Imhotep from a deep sleep, startling him awake. He lay silently in the darkness, listening to the conversation despite the fact he couldn't tell what they were saying half the time.

"You're saying you don't what to just… throw him over the side, right now," came the reply.

"Well –"

"Oh Rick, I'm proud of you."

"Why?" O'Connell asked, his voice laden with distrust. His wife laughed.

"You're starting to feel compassion for a man who's tried to kill you. If that's not true _Medjai_, then I don't know what is."

"Oh Evy, not that again."

"I thought you said –"

"Forget what I said. It's all coincidence."

"But Rick –"

"Please, Evy?"

There was a pause, and then a feminine sigh.

"Very well." But the consent was not given willingly.

There was a break in the conversation, and Imhotep leaned back against the mast, his mind spinning as his brain processed everything he had heard. So O'Connell was a _Medjai_. That explained a lot of things. He slid the gold band he wore around his wrist off his hand and examined the blue-inked tattoo it had hid. He was amazed that it was still there after all that had been done to his body; after all those years… centuries… millennia…

"Back to our original problem…" came Evy's voice, startling him from his thoughts.

"The bottom line it, I don't trust him," Rick said. His tone became defensive. "I may have compassion for him, but that doesn't mean I have to trust him."

"I know," Evy said soothingly. "So you want to keep him?"

"You make him sound like a stray puppy," Rick grumbled.

"I almost think he is, in a way," Evy said thoughtfully. "Did you see his expression when Anuk-sun-amun left him?"

Imhotep's face contorted in the darkness. That name was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

"That's what kept me there," Rick admitted reminiscently. There was a moment of thoughtful quiet, broken quickly by a comment from Evelyn.

"I almost think he was going to give up," she said softly. "I could see it in his eyes. He was going to let go and allow Hell to take him once and for all."

"Yeah," Rick agreed. There was the sound of clothing rustling slightly as he put his arm around her. Imhotep dropped his head, closing his eyes. The O'Connell's caring, gentle intimacy was something he had never found with Anuk-sun-amun. He bit his lip, realizing it was the first time he had ever wondered if there was anything more to love than heat and passion and maddening frenzies.

He had almost fallen asleep, reassured as to his fate, when something hit his leg and fell with a _thump_ onto the deck.

"Ouch!" Alex hollered. Promptly, everyone on board was wide awake.

"What is it? What is happening?" Izzy cried.

"We're under attack!!" came Jonathan's panicky and unrationalized contribution to the confusion. Immediately a light was struck and Imhotep blinked, unprepared for the glare of the lamp.

"If you've hurt my son…" O'Connell growled.

"Oh for Pete's-bloody-sake, Da, I only tripped," Alex said in an irritable tone that was a trifle amusing coming from a nine-year-old's mouth.

"Alexander Sehkmet O'Connell, watch your language," Evy warned as she came over and lifted him off Imhotep's ankles. "Now apologize."

"Sorry," Alex told Imhotep sullenly.

"You too," Evy commanded her husband. "There's no call for that sort of behavior while I'm on this… conveyance," she finished rather victoriously.

Rick obeyed between gritted teeth: "I apologize."

"Thank you," Evy said matter-of-factly. "Now; everyone try to get some rest. Tomorrow we land in Cairo."

Imhotep reclined in the sun, his back against the body of the dirigible as it lay sedately outside Izzy's shed. He watched Alex creating buildings in the sand from beneath hooded eyes. Evelyn had charged him with the job of watching her son and making sure he didn't get into trouble, despite the fact that her husband had protested vigorously. That had sparked Imhotep's pride, and now no one, come Hell or high water, was going to lay a fingernail on the boy till the O'Connells returned.

The Ancient Egyptian absentmindedly twisted the gold band around his wrist as he waited. Evy and Rick had gone to get him some decent clothing, since it would be both immodest and impractical for him to go traipsing across half the globe in nothing but a flimsy decorative kilt. Although Imhotep was perfectly comfortable in what he was wearing and more than a little nervous about taking this big step into the modern world, he also recognized the logic of it, and had agreed, silently as usual – or given in to Evy, more like. He didn't understand how O'Connell could put up with her. He himself found nothing attractive about her except for her beauty, so like that of his niece – the daughter of his half brother – Nefertiti. It was natural she should inherit such exotic beauty, of course. She _was_ the Pharaoh's daughter reincarnated after all.

"_How we love to life our mugs high, and bow to the spigot that overflows with precious gooo-oooold!"_

Imhotep rolled his eyes at the raucous, off-key singing that could be heard from inside the shed. Izzy and Jonathan were drinking away their adventuresome woes, which were running especially high after the last Draining of the Spirits at Ahm Shere. With some clunking and moaning, the two of them stumbled out into the sunlight arm in arm, singing loudly and stumbling everywhere. Alex looked up and for a moment his broad grin met Imhotep's eyes. The High Priest averted his gaze quickly, feeling a measure of guilt. The last time the tow-headed lad had looked at him, it had been with pure hatred.

"Uncle Jon, have you been drinking?" Alex asked innocently, a devious twinkle in his eye.

"Oh naw," Jonathan slurred as he stumbled about, hiccoughing every few steps. "Jus' a little (hic) tipsy." With a last silly grin, he fainted, pulling the sodden Izzy with him to the ground.

"Whew! A man can smell the liquor on them two a mile away," O'Connell declared as he arrived, wife behind him, bags in both their arms. Alex looked up with raised brows.

"Gee, Mum, did ya buy the whole store out?"

"Almost," Evy said fondly, her face lit up with a smile as she pressed a kiss to her son's blonde head.

"Look here, no we've got two dead corpses to take with us to London," Rick said jovially as he nudged Jonathan's arm with his boot toe. He looked at the expressions on the faces of Evy, Alex and Imhotep, and the smile dropped from his face. "Sorry, sore subject."

"Mm. Put these in the dirigible, would you?" And she dumped her armload of purchases into Rick's arms. Glaring at her from around the mound in his arms, he spun on his heel and obeyed. Following him, Evy dug some various articles of clothing out of one of the bags and approached Imhotep.

"You can put these on now. We'll be leaving once Jonathan and Izzy are… decent."

Imhotep inclined his head as he accepted her offering. "Tn tu bw-nfr Nefertiti." _(Thank you, Nefertiti.)_

She seemed startled at his form of address, but nodded quickly and stepped back to brush sand off her son's face.

In the dim light on the shed, Imhotep changed into the twentieth-century clothing. Although he knew how O'Connell and Jonathan wore their garments, he discovered that it was an entirely different thing learning to dress oneself in such contraptions. Nevertheless, when he was done and looking down at himself, he decided it wasn't bad for a first time. His feet were still bare, but his pants were on correctly, his casual waistcoat fastened over his white shirt. Disliking the clingy material, he rolled up the sleeves and unbuttoned the top of the collar. It was strange, feeling the trousers encasing both his legs entirely and the waistcoat hugging his lean torso in what he supposed was the fashion of the day, but he still disliked it. Shaking out his legs, he walked around the room a few times to get the hang of moving in such a get-up before emerging.

He stepped out of the shed just in time to see O'Connell douse the two drunkards with a bucket of water. They came awake gasping and swearing. Evy covered her son's ears, and he made a face, struggling to escape from her embrace.

"Rick, shut them up! I refuse to allow Alex to learn such language. His mouth is dirty enough already." But her tone was half-teasing.

O'Connell hauled the two miscreants up by their collars and shook them.

"Shut it, you two. We've got innocents around."

"Da-ad!" Alex protested. O'Connell raised an eyebrow at him, and the boy fell silent.

"Now everybody listen up. You too, Mr. High Priest," he added, nodding at Imhotep. Evy turned her head in surprise and smiled in almost parental pride when she saw him. "Evy!"

"I'm listening," she said, making eye contact with her husband.

"Good. This is the plan. I am going to take us all to England in the dirigible. One we get there, Izzy, you let us down and go back to Egypt and do whatever it is you do. The rest of us take a train to London. Jonathan, you're welcome to hang around if you want. Imhotep… you are also hanging with us, at least until you get a feel for city life. Is everyone satisfied with the present arrangements?"

He got a nod of assent from everyone except Jonathan and Izzy, whose heads had lolled forward in sleep. They were both snoring. He rolled his eyes and dropped them carelessly.

"I give up. All right, everyone on board."


	3. The Seti Room

**Two**

**The 'Seti' Room**

"M nb paa ntru," Imhotep breathed as he followed the O'Connell family off the train_. (By all the gods...)_

Rick and Evelyn exchanged a smile at their companion's proclamation.

"Get used to it, partner," Rick said grin. "This is the twentieth century."

"I suggest you use English as much as you can even if you don't know a lot," Evy added as Alex took on the job of hailing a cab. "It will help you tremendously."

"I wih try," Imhotep replied in his usual soft way. He had not dared raise his voice above a respectful tone in case O'Connell changed his mind and decided to throw him out into the streets. Imhotep had his pride, but he was not stupid. He knew he had no chance of surviving alone in the wilderness of London, England.

A taxi carried them through London to the far side of the city and up a hill that overlooked the Thames. Alex sat forward in his seat, watching the horizon eagerly as the spires of an immense mansion appeared above the trees. Like sentinels in the late afternoon, two wings sprouted from the center of the building, finishing with a tower on each end. Imhotep's brows rose as he observed the castle-like structure set against a backdrop of the sun setting on the Thames. The O'Connells, it seemed, were quite well off indeed.

No sooner than they had entered, however, than there was the sound of barking and a huge mass of fur came flying down the stairs and bowled Alex over. Evy let out a strangled scream, and then O'Connell started laughing.

"Jami, get your dog off my son!" he roared.

Imhotep took a closer look, and realized that it was indeed a dog, but not the slender, wiry breed he was used to. This canine was extremely hairy and shaggy, with a tail the size of a monumental feather-duster.

"Hai Nefertiti, sy tw nn?" _(Lady Nefertiti, what is this?)_

"Canî, nb Imhotep," Evy replied with a smile on her face. "Her name is Šmu-itn." _(Dog, Lord Imhotep.)_

"Summer Sun?" Imhotep asked, startled to hear a phrase of honor from his own ancient language given to such an animal.

"Yes. The breed is golden retriever."

"Nb rn tu nfr," he muttered under his breath as the fur of the animal licking Alex's face gleamed golden copper in the light. _(The name is fitting… literally, the name is good.)_

A piercing whistle brought Massira off Alex and sitting obediently at O'Connell's feet. There came a laugh from the head of the stairs.

"She knows you still, O'Connell," said a strongly accented feminine voice. "And your son as well."

"I almost didn't recognize her," Rick replied with a smile. "It has been to long since we have seen one another. Ii." _(Welcome.)_

Imhotep immediately recognized the young woman descending the stairs as one of his own race, but it was apparent she had been far from home for most of her life. She did not appear one bit Egyptian in the way she walked, dressed, and spoke; her accent was quite clearly Arabic. She had long, long black hair that curled its way loosely down her back to her waist, dark skin, and dark brown eyes flecked with the gold of the lineage of the High Priests of Egypt. Her body was curved, yet slender and sinuous, with long fingers and dainty hands. She was dressed in a short kimono-like tunic of emerald green that was tied at the waist but loosely open to reveal a tan undergarment. Expensive-looking riding breeches hugged her legs, and her feet and calves were covered in knee-high leather boots. Gold jewelry adorned her long neck, wrists, and ears.

"Long time no see, brother," she said as she and O'Connell embraced. Imhotep's eyebrows quirked. They could not be related, surely.

"Long time no see yourself, sister," came the reply. "What mischief have you been up to lately?"

"Oh, the usual: marauding, racing, sailing, the lot."

"Gee, Aunt Jami, you missed the most incredible –"

"Vacation," Evy interrupted, putting her hand on her son's shoulder and squeezing. Alex shut up. "We went to –"

"Let me guess," 'Aunt Jami' interrupted. "Egypt."

"Yes, actually," Rick stepped in, shooting his wife an apologetic smile. "The Nile. Very beautiful time of year, you know…"

"Actually, I though the Nile was atrocious in the springtime. All the flooding," Jami said, looking at her 'brother' peculiarly.

"We had a good spot," Rick covered up hastily.

"I'm afraid you've caught us at a bad time," Evy said with false brightness. "We really need to unpack and get some rest after our journey, so if you wouldn't mind…" Evy trailed off as she saw Jami's gaze flicker past her shoulder to the man standing just behind her.

"Who's this? New addition to the family?"

"Oh, he's just…"

"Hai, wi Imhotep," the High Priest cut Jonathan off. "Paa O'Connell tu hr n wi. I am visiting." _(I am Imhotep, my lady. The O'Connells are close to me. I am merely visiting.)_

Evy shot a warning glance at him. "It may not be a good idea to speak the Old Language so freely here," she whispered. Imhotep merely glanced toward her briefly.

"Another speaker of my favorite tongue," Jami said slowly, looking at him intensely. "You are quiet fluent. How long have you been studying it?"

"Ah my life," Imhotep replied, bearing down on her with his eyes even though his thick accent inhibited his desire for communication. He smiled inwardly as she looked away first.

"How interesting. Well, I apologize for my unseemliness. I shall return to my rooms at the Inn down the road and perhaps I may see you all again."

"Aw, do ya have t' leave already?" Alex whined. Jami's lips quirked and she mussed up his hair.

"I'll be back, Alex, don't you worry." But she was looking directly at Evy as she said it.

Imhotep lowered himself to the bed in his room with a weary sigh that barely escaped him. Now that he was alone, he could let down the barrier of his emotions just a little and be free to think. His life had taken a drastic turn. Of course, his life had almost never been like that of an average mortal. It had changed from simple, cheerful boyhood into something much more complex and adult when he was chosen to be recruited for the ranks of the Pharaoh's _Medjai_…

_"You there. What's your name, boy?"_

_"A-A-Alk-hied, sir," the small boy stammered._

_"Of the Pharaoh's house?" came the surprised retort._

"_Yes, sir."_

"_Hmm." A strong hand under Alk-hied's jaw forced his head up and to the side as Prince Seti the First looked him over. "You'll do. Come with me."_

_Alk-hied glanced back in fear at his mother. She was still on her knees in the dust after having bowed humbly before the royal heir, but she looked up enough to nod to her only child. Alk-hied swallowed in alarm as he saw her lip tremble with emotion._

_"Ts," she whispered, a tear tracking its way down her coffee-hued cheek. "Hr s-haa wi." (_Go. And remember me.)

_Later they had changed his name from Alk-hied to Imhotep. From Loving Son to Fierce Warlord…_

Imhotep wrenched his thoughts away from that day so long ago and made himself look around. Evy had given him one of the medieval tower rooms, though inside the manor there was nothing medieval about it. It was all Ancient Egyptian with some other similar cultures in between, and, he was embarrassed to admit even to himself, it was a comfort. Perhaps familiarity had more basis in strength than he had supposed.

Decided to take his mind off the dangerous direction they were heading in, Imhotep took a good look around his new abode. It was quite high of ceiling, the walls painted the deep green-gray of the Nile in the summertime. There were two sets of bay windows on either side of the room, each draped with the skins of tigers. There was a lion skin on the floor in front of the large fireplace, and ancient decorations adorned the walls. One of which was an ornamental elephant tusk, gleaming beneath an African war spear.

An opening in the far wall captivated Imhotep's attention, and, standing, he strode over to it and pushed aside the intricate drapery that blocked whatever was beyond from sight. What his eyes beheld brought him to his knees.

The room was circular, with two big stretches of window all the way around. In between were torches straight from the Palace of the Pharaoh, and tapestries containing a language he could read effortlessly. In the center of the open space there was an obviously well-taken-care-of display of a sarcophagus that was still in excellent condition. But it was the words carved at the bottom that so captivated Imhotep: Nsu-bit St paa tu. _(King Seti the First…rough translation)_

"Paa ntru," Imhotep whispered raggedly before rushing from the room. _(Gods.)_


	4. Remembering

**A/N: Hope all readers are enjoying the story. Estora gets cookies for reviewing!! (gives large plate of cookies )**

**Disclaimer: I own Jami, the Ancient Egyptian language, and the indoor sandbox at the O'Connell manor, but nothing else. **

**Three**

**Remembering**

Imhotep descended the stairs with a measure of hesitancy, still feeling out of place in the O'Connell manor. He ran his hand over the banister as he went, feeling the smooth wood beneath his palm and inhaling the scent of supper, whatever it was. It was a smell he had never smelled before, homey and laden with spices, and it smelled good.

He was startled out of his contemplative walk when a holler was heard above him. He jumped aside, startled, as Alex came flying down the banister, waving his dinner jacket over his head and whooping like a wild thing. Imhotep suppressed the grin he wanted to express, but couldn't repress the shadows of a smile from leaping to his cheeks.

_"He has dimples… that will win the _haiem_ for sure…" _(…ladies…)

_Alk-hied, recently renamed Imhotep, blushed boyishly. He was only seven, and unused to such jovial harassment from older men. His father, when he was alive, had been grave and stubborn…_

"Hei Imhotep? Are you all right?"

Imhotep blinked and looked down to see Evy looking up at him from the bottom of the stairs. "Of course," he muttered, realizing with horror he was being sucked in again…

_Imhotep, age fifteen, crouched in a corner, knowing he was where he shouldn't be. If he was caught, Adhen would skin him alive. Holding his breath, he shrank further back into the shadows as much as his developing body would allow and prayed to the gods he would not be discovered._

_Suddenly a curtain was pushed aside, and a young woman rushed into the room, her face hidden by her hands. The sobbing and the wild dark brown wig gave her away. It was Nefertiti, bawling again. Her older cousin Shek had probably been bullying her around again._

_"Neffy! Neffy, are you in here?"_

_A girl a little older than the first trotted in, looking around anxiously. This one was taller and more slender, but not quite as graceful, as she was further along in the gawky stage of teenagers. Her wig was plainer, straight and black with few adornments, identifying her as a daughter of one of the lesser wives. Probably Massi or Jakhiya…_

_"Neffy, are you all right?" the girl asked Nefertiti in a gentle tone, approaching her hesitantly._

_"Go away," Neffy replied, her voice muffled._

_"Has Shek been at it again?"_

_"N-no."_

_"Merîk?"_

_"Y-y-yes…"_

_The older girl sighed, but not with impatience. "You know you can't let them boss you around like that. They're not even born of your mother, Ahk-shira. You're the Pharaoh's daughter, Neffy, for Ra's sake…"_

_"Oh 'Suni, I know," Nefertiti sniffled, sitting up on her sleeping couch and wiping her eyes with the back of her arm. "But they were throwing figs again and…"_

_The next part of the conversation was lost to Imhotep as he heard the older girl's nickname. Suni… Was it really Anuk-sun-amun? The daughter of Seti's second wife? The one who had danced for the Pharaoh after coming of age? Imhotep swallowed. Out of all the girls who had danced to become young women, he had seen none like Anuk-sun-amun. Her beauty was unsurpassable…_

_"But 'Suni!"_

_"Do stop whining, Neffy, it's very unbecoming," Anuk-sun-amun replied in a mature tone. "Look, if they, or any of those other _Medjai_ trainees, bother you again, tell me, and I'll beat them up for you."_

_Imhotep sighed to himself. He would love to beaten up by Anuk-sun-amun…_

_"The trainees haven't done anything yet…" Nefertiti said, wide-eyed._

_"Well, they might, especially after you dance for the Pharaoh in two weeks," Auk-sun-amun replied matter-of-factly. "I know they did me. There aren't many who are really decent, unfortunately…"_

_"Have you…?" Nefertiti asked, wide-eyed._

_"No," Anuk-sun-amun scoffed. "I'm just the daughter of a harem woman. But when I dance again for Pharaoh, I plan to make it a proposition dance. I'll have to beforehand, of course. Mama told me that the Pharaoh doesn't take inexperienced ones…"_

_"But he's your father!" Neffy gasped._

_"So? It's not like he acts like it anyhow. Besides, it's the best sort of life one can have, unless you're immediate family. Food, jewels, clothes, servants, a suite… all of it."_

_"I suppose," Neffy said doubtfully._

_"Well, never mind," Anuk-sun-amun announced. I have to go attend mama now. I will see you at the feast tonight." And she kissed her half-sister on the cheek before leaving._

"Hei Imhotep…"

Imhotep's subconscious returned to its proper place as the vision retreated, and he found himself looking deep into Evy's hazel eyes. She smiled.

"Are you still with me?"

"Y morhd zji feirhd," Imhotep replied. "Zji gal-hamad." _(I had a dream. A vision.)_

"Of the past?" Evy asked quietly. She nodded when he answered in the affirmative. "I have had those, too."

A call to supper echoed through the lower level, and she put on her everyday smile.

"Well, come. Your first meal in England, if I'm not mistaken…"

* * *

"Well?" 

"Well what?"

"Well, didn't I tell you?" Evy teased her husband, rubbing her nose against his.

"Tell me what?"

"Oh, come on, don't play the fool with me," she chided him. "You know what I'm talking about." Silence. "He is very well-behaved, is he not?"

"Yeah, he hasn't peed on the carpet once," Rick said sarcastically.

Evy sighed in exasperation.

"Rick…"

"All right, all right, cool it honey." He swung his legs off the bed and stood in the semi-dark, feeling for the pajama bottoms he had thrown on the floor earlier in the evening.

"And…" Evy prompted him.

"Fine. He hasn't stepped out of line once. Satisfied?"

"Please, Rick. I feel like he's my protégé, or something like. I need your approval to be_ fully_ satisfied."

"I think Alex is warming up to him," Rick said, falling back on the mattress. Sensing his wife's surprise, he elaborated. "I mean, he hasn't given the man a wrong look since he rescued your fool of a brother from falling out of that… that… _thing_ Izzy calls a 'reliable aircraft'. He seemed quite content playing in the sand when we returned from shopping in Cairo. I might ask Alex about it… At dinner he kept looking over at Imhotep as though he wanted to ask a million questions…"

"That's it! Why didn't I think of it before?" Evy wondered aloud, snapping her fingers. "Of course Alex is curious. He's a nine-year-old. Boys his age love to ask questions about every little thing. Having someone from the very era he's so fascinated about living with us must be pure torture."

"Why?"

"Because he's afraid to ask. Maybe for propriety, though he's never worried about it before. Maybe because of the harm Imhotep has done to our family, maybe… oh, I don't know. You're the male here, you tell me. What were you like as a nine-year-old?"

"Very inquisitive," Rick replied dryly. He snagged his wife's waist with his arm and pulled her up against him. "But I think you may be up to something, my dear."

* * *

The next day Rick left the house on business and Evy withdrew into her room complaining of a headache, leaving the house to Alex and Imhotep. Not knowing what to do with himself, Imhotep eventually made his way to the library. Seeing Alex busy with something in the far corner, he went the other way, perusing the bookshelves. Most were English, and he passed them by, afraid to open them and feel foolish not being able to read them. However, his hand caught a paper sticking out between two heavy tomes, carrying several leafs of paper to the floor. Bending to pick them up, he saw the title, written in a feminine hand: _Gal-hamad i O'ixî._ Visions of the Past. 

And Evy's signature was at the bottom, below the neatly printed hieroglyphic for Nefertiti.

Imhotep immediately sat at the nearest desk and began to read the hieroglyphics written so elegantly on the pages.

**I have been having strange dreams for some time now. Dreams where I am the daughter of the Pharaoh, Seti I: Nefertiti. I do not understand why I am having these visions, and part of me is afraid to tell Rick. It sounds like something he would scoff at. The other part, though, is screaming to tell someone. I can't keep it all locked up inside. It's frightening.**

**The first vision I had was of me bathing. I was about seventeen. It was very warm out, and I was swimming naked in a pool full of some strange lily-like water plant. Then a man came toward me, and somehow I knew he was my father. He had come to tell me of my mother's death.**

Imhotep remembered that day very well. He had been eighteen, nearing his coming-of-age ceremony and the time when he would become a full-fledged _Medjai_ warrior. The cry had run through the palace very quickly: the Queen had at last died of the wasting disease that had captured her in its sickly folds since bearing her last child, who had died. It had been a time of mourning for everyone Egypt. Ahk-shira had been loved by all.

His eyes were drawn back down to the page of their own accord. Finding the next segment, he read on…

**From here on out, I shall write as though I were experiencing these visions as the real thing:**

**Anuk-sun-amun frightens me. She is with child by my father already, and I think she enjoys being the new King's First since mama died. However, I think she is keeping a secret: I do not think her child belongs to Seti.**

Imhotep swallowed hard. Evy, as Nefertiti, was not far off the mark. In truth, he and Anuk-sun-amun had never been sure who the true father of "Seti the second" had been even after he was born. The child resembled his mother too closely to be sure.

**The other day I saw a man in Anuk-sun-amun's apartments. It was Imhotep; the child-to-be's underguardian, who would teach him – if it was indeed a him – the ways of the warrior and the learned nobleman. However, something tells me he was there for more than a simple check-up visit on my half-sister. If he is indeed her secret lover, then she will have to be careful. Father is getting more and more protective of her each day.**

That was certainly true. Imhotep remembered when the Pharaoh had had the High Priest Kiehv executed after the man had given Anuk-sun-amun a wrong look. Those weeks were tense – with no High Priest to do the holy jobs and prepare sacrifices for the gods, and the Pharaoh becoming testy and hard to be around, all of Egypt seemed to have a cloud of despair over it. Until, however, Seti I appointed his next High Priest…

Without warning, Imhotep saw black… and then gold…

_He waited nervously out in the hall with Nefertiti and the Pharaoh as the midwife did her work within. Every time a scream or cry was heard, all three of them flinched. Imhotep felt the muscles in his neck tense each time the Pharaoh looked his way. _

_Suddenly, Imhotep felt a warm rush flow through his body, and a detached sensation overcame his consciousness. His attempt to steady himself was in vain as his knees buckled and he collapsed on the floor. Images pounded through his brain, bloody, painful, unrelenting… and then he saw him. A little five-year-old, toddling in the great hall…_

_"Hei Imhotep! Kà hielh knai-rohg?" Nefertiti asked in alarm as the Pharaoh beckoned his guard to support the Medjai warrior. _(Sir Imhotep! Are you all right?)

_"Y jà ghal-hed," Imhotep said, passing a hand over his eyes. He looked directly at the Pharaoh. "Kî leim xi'mekn zji pál." _(I am all right. / It's going to be a boy.)

_And when Imhotep's prediction came true, Seti I appointed him the new High Priest._

Imhotep sank back against his chair when at last he was released from the vision and shuddered as the final effects rolled off him like fetid oil. Deciding to put the trigger of his memories away, he folded the papers up and returned them to their place between a Shakespearean history and a thick tome written in a language he could not comprehend. As he stepped back from the shelf, he did have to admit to himself that he felt more as though he belonged with the O'Connells. He was no longer the only one with strange dreams.

He was drawn from his thoughts by an exasperated sigh from the other side of the large room. Looking over, he saw Alex glaring at a sculpture of some sort in the indoor sandbox Rick and his son used to reconstruct ancient buildings and apparatuses. (Apparently Mr. O'Connell senior's first dream was to be an architect.) From the back, it looked like a large rectangle, but then, it was a very smooth and precise rectangle. Curiosity getting the better of him, Imhotep strolled nonchalantly across the room.

"What is this, young ahr-kîr?" _(…architect?)_

"The temple of Amon-Ra," came the studious reply, "but I just can't get it right. Something's weird with da's diagram." Glancing the boy's left, Imhotep saw that there was indeed a complex chart of the temple of the Sun God, and it was in truth very good, but the boy was right. It was not totally accurate.

"Let me take a look," he offered. Perhaps, he thought, they key to the O'Connell's trust – and his comfort – was their son.

Alex looked up at him, an expression in his baby-blue eyes Imhotep could not comprehend. After waiting momentarily, Alex seemed to have found what he was looking for, because he nodded.

"All right."

Circling behind the boy to look over his shoulder, the High Priest observed the fruit of the lad's labors. The realistic closeness to the real thing was astounding, save for one thing…

"Here there is the sacrificial cubical," Imhotep said, tapping his extending finger on a spot beside the building. "And adjoined is a fence that kept the sacrifice penned in."

"Really?" Alex sounded somehow amazed and dubious at the same time. Imhotep could not contain a chuckle.

"Crihrai, I have prepared and offered the sacrifices as well as… ja-haie the transport and care of the young beasts. I have the Temple of Amon-Ra… er, laghla, inside and out. I know what I'm talking about." _(Lad…overseen…memorized)_

"I think the words you want are 'overseen' and 'memorized'," Alex said knowledgably. "Your English actually isn't too bad, considering."

Imhotep smiled. "Thank you."

"But a person can always learn more," remarked Alex. "How about we make a deal."

"All right," Imhotep agreed, finding it difficult to erase the foolish smile from his face.

"You help me accurately reconstruct buildings from your time and I will teach you more English."

How could Imhotep refuse?

And so, when Evy entered the library looking for a reference to the gods of the Nile, Imhotep and Alex were situated on the couch by the large window bent over pen and paper practicing the English language.


	5. The Great Escape

**Hey all. Sorry for the tardiness, and many thanks for your patience! Here is the next chapter. Reminder: most of the Ancient Egyptian is as true as I could get it (3's are translated as double a's, and other symbols I don't have on my poor computer, so my apologies...) but if I couldn'd find it, ut's made up! Also, a little tip I got: L's are not pronounced in the Ancient Egyptian language, and so that's Imhotep has troubs with those. Jami is mine, and the rest I am buying soon... not really. ;) Enjoy! -DR**

**Four **

**The Great Escape**

"Well, well, what have we here?" Evy asked with a smile as she approached student and teacher. Alex looked up with a grin.

"I'm teachin' him more English," he said, adding proudly, "he's a very good learner."

"Well that's good, because the new curator of the Egyptian Museum wants our family and any guests we may wish to invite to attend a special dinner for all Egyptologists in the area."

"Aww, not another boring party," Alex whined.

"Don't worry, sweetie, children aren't included in the invitation," Evy said with a knowing smile as she ruffled her child's hair. She tugged his ear affectionately as he struggled from her grasp, and she looked at Imhotep. "You, however, will be coming."

"I have no choice then? I go as your… baak?" Imhotep inquired sarcastically. _(…slave.) _

"Yes, but we'll have to change your name temporarily," Evy replied. "Too many people know about the High Priest that defied the Pharaoh so long ago."

"Just not Jonathan," Imhotep muttered under his breath.

"Hey, yeah! Can Uncle Jon stay home with me?" Alex pleaded. "Pleeeease?"

"I'll ask him," Evy promised. "As far as I know, he wasn't invited either."

Jasmine Al-Hammad, also known as Jami, tightly wound the long length of rope around her waist underneath her baggy man's shirt. Tucking the white cotton into her comfortable breeches and throwing a tunic over it, she pulled sturdy leather boots over her calves and draped a woolen knee-length coat over her slender frame. Lastly, she tied her jet-black hair into a chignon on top of her head and tugged a wide-brimmed hat over it. It wasn't the perfect disguise, but hopefully Ardeth wasn't looking for perfection. In any case, it was dark out, and if they were seen, their pursuers wouldn't exactly be dressed in running shoes. Nevertheless, for a last precaution before stepping out the door, she slid a sheathed dirk into her boot and stowed two pistols in the lining of her overcoat.

She was adjusting the knee of one of her breeches so she could draw the weapon hidden there quickly and smoothly when there came a coded knock at the door. She froze, and waited. Once, twice, three times, and four little quick raps. Unbending, she walked quickly to the door and pulled it open, ducking as a fist sailed into the room and back.

"Ardeth, one of these days you're going to _kill_ me," she hissed, bringing the sides of her overcoat around and buttoning the middle fasteners snugly.

"Not if you kill me first," he replied, a dimple flashing in his right cheek. "Hurry now, we have no time to loose."

Obediently, student followed master down the rickety stairs and out into the night. London was usually fairly quiet, but in this part of town, 'quiet' was not even in anyone's vocabulary. Someone was always getting thrown out of a bar or whorehouse, clutching themselves and swearing. Still others sang lustily in rusty tones, firing off rounds into the darkening sky to "celebrate life." It was these last particular sounds that were making Jami jumpy. She hated the sound of gunfire when she couldn't tell where it was coming from.

"_Ms, _you need to settle yourself," Ardeth chided her softly as they strolled down the street together. Despite their casual appearance, their every nerve was on high alert. (_Child…) _

"I know. Sorry." She glanced at her mentor and lifelong friend, but his expression was neutral. _He's laughing at me inside_, she thought darkly, but said nothing. He was her senior by ten years, and that meant she listened to him no matter what. She could not risk any rumpled feathers, especially now. Putting one another's trust in danger right now could likewise put their mission in jeopardy.

"Lost in thought again?"

"I thought you said we needed to be quiet," Jami remarked.

"We should, but not as to appear devious to our fellow man. We must maintain a balance, or we will arouse suspicions in direction or another," Ardeth counseled her, going so far as to put his hands in his pockets, far from any weapon he was wearing – all of which were hidden, of course.

Gradually they departed from the bad side of London, making their way to lighter – and more sleepy – streets. The night was young yet, for some, but the half-moon was high in the sky, shedding a silvery, pale light over the city. Lamps lit by the "gasglow boys" flickered weakly on the sidewalks, and only the occasional light in wealthy penthouses and restaurants betrayed the city's richer life.

"Here we are," Ardeth murmured as they came across the street from the city's most renowned Egyptian Museum and Archives. "Let's pass it a ways down, and then we'll cross the street."

Once lost in the shadows behind the museum, Ardeth and Jami inched along the cold brick that faces the Thames river. Lights from within cast light on the water and the cement shoreline, making it foolish to walk out boldly. Instead, they found the crease in the brick where they had renovated and there were no windows for a good five feet across.

"Did you bring the rope?"

"Of course," Jami whispered back. Reaching beneath her tunic, she unwound the harsh material that had been jabbing her abdomen. Taking the end she offered, Ardeth wound it expertly into a complicated knot and cast it up with a flick of his wrist. Wishing she could emulate such a tactic, Jami tugged to make sure it was securely fixed to the protruding gargoyle and grasped the rope in her gloves hands.

"Go," Ardeth cautioned her, "but be careful. I will be standing guard, but absolute silence is needed if we don't want to cause a disturbance."

As his pupil began the fairly simple climb, Ardeth wished not for the first time that the curator had chosen a different night to hold the party. All the same, this might give his an opportunity to see if what Jami said was true. Had O'Connell really been foolish enough to rescue the Monster and bring it to London with his family? It was a sad day indeed when a _Medjai_ put his faith in a being that had helped murder the very royalty they had been created to protect.

His thoughts were interrupted as the rope hit him in the back. Looking up, he saw Jami motioning him up expressively, pointing to her pistol to say she would keep lookout. Sighing, he slung his machinegun back into his cloak and grabbed the rope, placing his feet against the wall. With measured steps, he began the ascent, going hand over hand as he walked up the side of the Museum.

By the time he got to the top, Jami's face was creased with worry.

"Hanhg aî'k?" he whispered, kneeling low in the shadow of a chimney as he brought the rope up hastily. _(What is it?)_

"I think we have been spotted," Jami replied, hidden in the darkness as well. She pointed to the river. "I had been watching that dark spot cross since I got up here. I think it's a boat, but what would a fisherman be doing out this late in a river so polluted people can die if they ingest its waters?"

"That's no fisherman.," Ardeth said ominously. "Jhein! Come, now we have a time limit." _(Shit.)_

He turned and melted into the maze of chimneys sprouting up like daisies in a field. Jami took one last look at the suspicious boater and followed, her soft-soled shoes making virtually no sound on the cement surface.

Evy regretted bringing Imhotep to the dinner as soon as she saw the expression on his face. She also regretted neglecting to bring Jonathan. At the least the two could have shared conversation. At the moment she could see Imhotep, over the shoulder of the patron she was speaking with, looking miserable over in a corner. She finally managed to excuse herself.

"Nb Imhotep, tu nfr?" _(Lord Imhotep, are you all right?) _

Imhotep gave her a withering look. "I am weh-l," he replied, still a little hesitant on his "l"s.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought you," she apologized. When he looked slightly puzzled, she repeated it in is language.

"Nn," he agreed. _(No.) _

"Wit nuy," Evy promised before leaving in search of Rick. _(I'll come back soon.) _

Imhotep was beginning to relax in relief when he saw a flash of black flit across the open stairwell on the second story. Quickly scanning the crowd and seeing Evy engaged elsewhere, he decided to disappear for a moment to explore the hidden rooms.

It was dark upstairs, still and pleasantly deserted after the hectic frenzy of the dinner where he only understood one in six of every word spoken. Communication with the Romans, when they had conquered the Ancient Egyptians, had been necessary, so he knew some Greek and Latin, but nothing that was spoken nowadays.

It was amusing to see such precautions taken with useless and often cheap items such as the pottery and ceramic kitchenware used by the poor and working class. He ran his fingertips absentmindedly against the cool glass, wondering how so much of it could be made so easily. It was like frozen water, but it was not cold, and where he placed his skin it left small marks that smeared when he tried to wipe them off.

He was just about to return to Evy when he felt cold metal on the back of his head.

"Haa, bin m-t," hissed a voice in his ear. "We have found you at last." _(Ha, evil dead man.)_

Imhotep pivoted slowly to see a familiar face.

"Ardeth."

The _Medjai_ smirked. "Imhotep. Fancy meeting you here." And he ground the head of the gun into Imhotep's skull. The High Priest winced against his will, and felt a stick liquid trickle down his neck.

"Paay-i dw," Imhotep spat. _(My enemy…a/n: Major insult.) _

"You are a fool," Ardeth replied, a grim light in his eyes. "Now you shall pay for what you have done with your life."

He was about to pull the trigger when two feminine voices called out his name in unison.

"Ardeth!"

Evy and Jami came running into the room through opposite door, both intent on stopping the _Medjai_ leader. Ardeth paused. It was just what Imhotep needed. Swinging away from the gun and bending low, Imhotep's arm shot out and connected with Ardeth's solar plexus. Ardeth turned gray and doubled over.

"Imhotep!" Evy cried next, nearly stumbling over the coil of rope Ardeth had dropped as he snuck up behind his enemy. The High Priest barely gave her a glance as he prepared to knock Ardeth unconscious with one anger-driven fist.

"Ho there, partner, easy does it," O'Connell said as he gripped Imhotep's wrist. The High Priest relaxed in surprise and the tuxedo-clad American pressed a pressure point on his victim's neck. Imhotep went limp immediately. O'Connell laid him on his back and rolled him to the side out of the way. "It's been a while, old friend," O'Connell said sarcastically as he helped Ardeth to recover. The _Medjai_ glared at him, but he only laughed. "Same thing, old bud, easy does it."

Jami cowered against her will as Rick's flinty eyes came in contact with hers.

"And what were _you_ doing in such notorious company?"

"You are no longer my guardian," Jami said with a sniff, trying to appear tough and unaffected. "He is my mentor, but it is no business of yours."

"Your _mentor_?" Rick exclaimed, astounded. "Since when?"

"I told you, it is –"

Rick cut her off by swooping one hand out and catching her ankles. She fell to the floor in a heap.

"Since when?" he repeated sternly. She glared at him.

"Since we were parted after escaping from that hell-hole that was an orphanage," she hissed. Her eyes gleamed like a viper's. "We came here for something, and it is most likely that we have someone after us. Thanks to you, we have been stalled!"

"Thanks to your 'mentor' here, you mean," Rick said scornfully. "He was the one who suggested you take a detour to challenge the bald guy. Now I have to get you out of this mess _again_, and we have an unconscious man and a man who might as well be to tote along with us."

"The unconscious one is your fault," Jami was quick to point out.

"He was going to kill your stud. I had to intervene. Now come on, we don't have much time."

"He is _not_ 'my stud'," Jami protested in an angry whisper, but no one was listening to her. Rick gave Evy a few quickly murmured directions, and she left in a hurry. "What did you tell her?" Jami demanded.

"Look, miss hoity-toity," Rick growled, spinning around and grabbing her by the shoulders. "I have places to be. You need to get out of here. I told Evy my plans. Yes, she has a name, and you'd better learn that right quick. 'Cause she's my wife whether you like it or not, and that's the way it's gonna stay. So if you're going to be a petulant child and whine all the time, then I would just as soon leave you here to be captured by the Tuaregs, or whoever the heck is after you and your 'mentor.' It's your choice to make, so make it soon."

Letting go of her so sharply that she stumbled, Rick turned back around and hauled Ardeth to his feet.

"Come on, man, let's go, let's go. You escort your 'student' and I'll get Mr. Hotshot."

As it turned out, Jami was the one escorting Ardeth. Somehow, despite their burdens, all three (plus one deadweight) made it out the fire escape and into the alley where Evy was waiting for them with Rick's car. They were piling in when there came a shout from the other end of the narrow road.

"Shit," Rick muttered, pushing Imhotep to the far end in the back. He Shoved Ardeth in next and Jami slid in next to him with a scowl in his direction. Rick mimicked it.

"Rick, stop being immature. We've got pursuers, in case you haven't noticed!" Evy nearly screamed.

"I have, as a matter of fact, and _you_ need to be more quiet!" Rick retorted tersely, but he vaulted over the vehicle and slammed the door behind him as he situated himself in the front passenger seat. Evy sighed at the sad fact that no one had bothered to invent cars that went backwards as well as forwards and hit the gas. The car screamed out of the alley, heading for the Thames.

There were two heavy thuds as human bodies hit the roof. Cursing colorfully, Rick fumbled in the glove compartment for his pistol.

"I thought I told you to get rid of that!" Evy gaped at him.

"Well it's a good thing I didn't!" Rick yelled. There came a scream from Jami as a primitive spear came through the roof like it was tinfoil. "LOOK AT THE ROAD FOR GOD'S SAKE!" shouted Rick as Evy swerved around lumps and bumps in the landscape.

"THERE IS NO ROAD!" Evy shouted back, but she obeyed. Her husband leaned out the window and began shooting.

There was a male scream of agony, and Jami watched with a sick feeling in her stomach as a heavily bleeding Tuareg toppled off the car. More shots. This time it was Rick who screamed. He drew back, face contorted in agony as he held a severely bleeding hand against his chest. She expected Evy to start going into hysterics, but she didn't. She merely stood the blood-slicked pistol from her husband's loose grip and handed it back to Jami.

"Your turn."

Jami stared in amazement at Evy, but was jolted from her surprise as the bullets of a machinegun rippled crazily along the sides of the car.

"Hurry up and shoot!" Evy shrieked. "We're surrounded!"

Jami obeyed. Despite the face that she had never touched a pistol like this in her life, she eventually managed to shake off their other attacker. Standing up through the hole made by her shots, she looked back in shock only to see another car, a convertible filled with more natives, following them closely.

"DUCK!" Evy shrilled. Jami ducked just in time as the road dipped and went under the ground in a low-ceilinged tunnel. They came out again, the convertible still hot on their tail. She aimed her gun, only to find she was out of bullets. Swearing, she ducked down again and sat in a huff between the two unintelligible men in the back seat.

Evy had a death grip on the wheel as she steered into the traffic that littered the main road. Gray buildings rose up on either side of her in the late night, the occasional bus and taxi mixed with the vehicles of London citizens making it difficult to elude their pursuers. Glancing back occasionally, she was relieved to see them getting farther and farther away.

By the time the pulled into O'Connell manor, they were lost on the bystreets Evy had taken to shake them off. Pulling into the garage, she laid her head back and tried hard not to cave in and cry. There were still people who needed her. Nevertheless, by the end of the night, she had never been happier to fall into bed and let Jonathan, Alex, and the reawakened Imhotep take care of everything.

**I hope this is satisfactory. I hope to update soon! Thanks to all who have reviewed and been patient with me!**


	6. The Decision

**Wow! I never expected to get so many reviews. Thanks to all - you guys rock! Here's the next chapter - and to anyone else who has not reviewed, PLEASE DO! I need all the feedback I can get. Thanks so much, Dark Rose**

**Six**

**The Decision**

Rick awoke on the hardwood floor of the library and nearly yelled outright as his neck and shoulder screamed in pain. Grunting, he pushed himself upright with both hands. This time, he did yell. Grabbing his right hand, he saw it snugly wrapped in bandages. And he remembered.

"Morning, Mr. Hero," said a soft voice at his ear. Turning, he saw Jami still half-asleep on the divan that had been his pillow overnight. No wonder all his muscles were so screwy.

"Good morning," Rick muttered grouchily. "Lord in Heaven, my hand hurts!"

"_That's_ not a surprise. It was bleeding like all hell last night. You're lucky no bones are broken."

"Yeah… ohhh, damn it." And he fell back in defeat. "I give up. I'm just going to lay here until I feel like making my life hell by moving."

Jami chuckled, and returned to her doze. Rick lay there, feeling achy and miserable, until his son appeared in his line of sight.

"Morning dad!" Alex announced with a grin. "Guess what! Ardeth just tried to kill Imhotep again."

"Oh Lord… Look, just make sure they're separated, and leave me alone. I feel like a huge Ancient Egyptian evil priest's mouth-shaped wind just chewed me up and spat me back out."

"Okay. Mom says to get moving, by the way." And Alex hopped off, leaving his father to lay there stiffly, still groaning.

Breakfast was precarious, to say the least. Although separated by four people, Imhotep and Ardeth continuously glared at each other over their plates. Evy, Jami, Jonathan and Rick attempted light conversation, while Alex unsuccessfully tried to distract Imhotep with a stream of chatter in both English and Egyptian, but all of it was in vain. Neither of the two foreigners ate hardly anything, so intent were they on murdering one another mentally.

After breakfast, Rick called a gathering in the library. Jami stood behind Ardeth and kept a firm grip on his shoulders while Alex braved the storm and sat decisively on Imhotep's lap. A surprised look flashed across the High Priest's face, and then he sat back in defeat. Nonetheless, Ardeth still kept a wary eye on his enemy. Jonathan preferred to sit in a safer zone: beside Evy on the couch.

"All right, while everyone's settled down and not intent on murder," Rick began, "we have some things to discuss. Jami, I would be much obliged if you would begin…?"

"Oh, fine," Jami gave in. "Ardeth and I are after one of what you Egyptologists call 'artifacts' and what we realists call 'divine objects'." There came a snort from Rick, but she ignored it. Alex translated for Imhotep quietly.

"And exactly which artifact do you speak of?" Evy inquired, purposely avoiding the 'divine' subject.

"It's very rare, but when it is named, it is called the Eye of Sehkmet," Jami explained. "It is known among the _Medjai_ as the Bw-bin m paa H'py. The Evil of the Nile."

They all waited a moment, watching Imhotep as Alex rapidly spoke in Ancient Egyptian, finishing Jami's speech. The older man's face paled with every word.

"Bw-nfr ntr," he breathed, closing his eyes. _(Literally 'good gods'…)_

"All right, the High Priest is scared. Now I'm freaking out," Rick muttered. His uninjured hand reached back and tugged one suspender unconsciously – nervously, almost.

"You should be scared," Imhotep murmured. His gaze locked knowingly with Jami's. "The Bw-bin m paa H'py is not to be trifled with."

"But what _is_ it?" Alex demanded, almost bouncing in Imhotep's lap. The High Priest gave him a hairy eyeball hairier than his mother could give him even when she tried, and he hopped off immediately.

"To the layman's perspective, it appears a chain of gold with a disk-like apparatus connected," Ardeth said. "If you have seen the full _Ht_ of Amon-Ra, you know the basic shape. However, instead of the ruby that is set in the center of the Staff to cause it to resemble the sun, the disk is set with a black, flawless jade stone. It is polished and smooth, about the size of a robin's egg; very small, but very deadly. Strange designs and incantations of the gods fill both sides, written in a pattern not seen by any but its creator." _(…Staff…)_

"And let me guess," Rick put in dryly. "It has the power to destroy the world."

"That's what they say," Ardeth replied, pretending not to notice his friend's sarcasm. "But we are not sure how exactly. If it could be read, perhaps we could find out."

"Mr," Imhotep stated in a low voice. "Mr hr s-phr nb phw s-'haa r 'nh." _(Disease…Disease and a useless struggle to live.)_ He bowed his head. "No one survives the Bw-bin m paa H'py."

"Well? Give us some background, here," Rick prompted.

"It was lost around 2500 BC," Jami said, picking up the tale. "It was recovered twenty years ago by a foolish archeologist looking for fame and glory. He never found them. He was brutally slain, and all his assistants with him, by the Tuaregs of Africa, who oppose the _Medjai_ fiercely and did not wish us to find it. Five years ago it was recovered again, and put on display in the British Museum of Archeology here in London. It was almost stolen, and for more protection, it was moved to the Museum of Egyptology, which is where we were last night."

"And did you get it?" Jonathan inquired, cringing slightly. Jami smiled, and her smile was that of a feline who ate all the cream.

"What do you think?" she asked softly. Reaching into her tunic, she withdrew a gold chain. On it was the disk she had spoken of.

A deadly silence fell over the room, and Alex shivered. Imhotep rested a hand on his shoulder in what could have been interpreted as comfort.

"Put it away," he said harshly. "It wih attract our… _dw_." _(…enemies.)_

"That is superstition," Ardeth scoffed.

"I said put it away!" Imhotep repeated angrily, standing and taking a few steps toward Jami. She obeyed, if reluctantly. The High Priest gave her a warning with his eyes, and then stepped back to sit again. "Thank you." Despite his formality, the fury still smoldered in the back of his eyes. Jami shivered and looked away.

"But why is it called the Eye of Sekhmet?" Alex inquired softly.

"Mere superstition," Ardeth intervened smoothly. "It is said that when the proper incantation is spoken, the jewel becomes like an eye, and that the Great Lady Sekhmet herself can converse with those on the Earth. All rumor of course; none of it is pure truth."

"Interesting," Evy mused. "Strange that I have not heard of it before."

"Very strange," Rick muttered, rolling his eyes. Evy shot him a look, and they exchanged some unheard conversation through their gaze. They both looked away satisfied.

"All right," Rick began slowly; musingly. He made eye contact with every person in the room and then proceeded to energetically crack his knuckles. "Evy and I have reached a decision."

"A decision?" Jami laughed incredulously. "You haven't spoken privately since this morning, if then."

"Don't try to understand what you cannot, or you will make a fool of yourself my dear," Rick said with sarcastic sweetness. "What we have decided to do is this: obviously, the Tuaregs are after Ardeth and Jami. I do not suspect that they will give up so easily. It may be only a matter of days – possibly hours – before they discover where you have hid. The manor is no longer safe for anyone, especially Alex and Imhotep. Therefore, we are going to migrate."

"Migrate," Jami mumbled with a grin on her face she was trying desperately to hide. "I haven't heard you use that word in ages."

"Nevertheless," Rick said, acknowledging her and waving her off in the same gesture, "we must leave the manor for a while, and perhaps we shall do some discreet uncovering of our own."

"But where will we be going?" Alex asked; his voice was a little more eager than it should have been.

"A place you have not seen yet, and a place your father and I have not been since before you were born." Evy smiled mysteriously. "We are going to the home of an acquaintance who has the good fortune to live near Hamunaptra."


	7. A Desperate Plan

**Hello! Here's a Christmas present for all ym wonderful reviewers. Thanks loads and loads to all who have reviewed. If you have not, PLEASE DO!!! As long as it's not flames, it fuels my inspiration. Thanks so much, Dark Rose

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**Seven**

**A Desperate Plan**

Alex tried to doze, but couldn't. This train ride east was too much like the one he had taken when held captive by Imhotep and Anuk-sun-amun, and it unsettled him. He wished his mother would leave the riding cabin at least. Then he wouldn't have to pretend to be asleep.

It was with great relief that he heard his father poke his head in and summon Evy away. Groaning, he stretched out of his uncomfortable position and his head flopped the other way. Imhotep was sitting opposite him in a relaxed position reminiscent of the lotus. And they were alone.

Shivering, Alex turned away, looking out the window as the terrain changed to flat dirt and then the arid sand dunes of the east.

"What is it?" Evy murmured, standing in close proximity to Rick. He glanced down the hall and bent close to her ear to avoid being heard by the passengers in the open cubical a few doors down.

"Do you think we made the right decision?"

"Oh, is that all?" She saw the look on his face and sighed. "I'm sorry. Yes, I do think we made the right decision. We probably shouldn't have put Ardeth and Jami together with strangers in another seat, but that can't be helped now."

"Probably plotting something," Rick muttered. He sighed. "What a mess. I thought we'd leave the whole running-away-to-Egypt thing after Imhotep got more settled and left the house…"

"But instead we're being dragged off on another rip-roaring adventure," Evy smiled at him. "You know you love it."

"Mm." Bending so that his forehead touched her shoulder, he inhaled her sweet fragrance. "Wearing _Arabian Moonflower_ again?"

"How did you guess?" Evy laughed softly. She lifted her hand and threaded her fingers through his hair. "Now, now, Rick, no fooling around until we get to Aïsha's."

"Why?" he mumbled, preoccupied with the slope of her neck.

"Because last time whenever we started getting heated, something would happen to Alex."

Rick's head shot up.

"Alex. We left him alone with Imhotep."

"Rick, he's perfectly safe…" Evy rolled her eyes as her husband sprinted down the length of the train car.

Ignoring her, Rick slid into the room on his heels, almost having missed the turn. The car was empty.

"Damn!" He ran to the window, which was flapping noisily in the breeze, and looked out in despair. Too late. There was no sign of them.

"Rick? Where… oh God…"

Spinning around, Rick saw the blood drain from his wife's face. Mouth hardening, he grabbed her upper arms and situated her on the seat.

"Sit tight, love. I'll be right back."

Evy watched him go with a dazed expression. She was already gone.

_"Seth, come back!" Nefertiti called, her wild dash broken by the balcony. She nearly fell over headfirst, but managed to stop in time to watch the little prince go flying over the warm twilight sand into the gardens. Sighing in resignation, she turned to sit wearily on the cool ledge. He couldn't go far. She would run after him when she felt less weary._

_"Neffy, have you…? Oh, never mind." Anuk-sun-amun trotted onto the low balcony with a rueful smile on her painted face. "Is he in the gardens again?"_

_"Yes." Nefertiti eyed her half-sister's growing belly with a measure of jealousy. How could one woman produce so many children? "I'll go to him later when he's had his sulk."_

_Anuk-sun-amun laughed and sat beside her. Although heavy with child, she still dressed as the royal wife of the Pharaoh in transparent silks and gold netting. Her black hair was now gilt with adornments and her face painted like the rising sun._

_"How are you, Neffy? We have not spoken lately."_

_"I am well." Nefertiti's face brightened with a smile. "The _Medjai _Captain is very kind."_

_"Rik-hpš?" Anuk-sun-amun asked in surprise. "Why Neffy, what a catch!"_

_"Despite the fact that we cannot marry because of his position?" Nefertiti inquired bitterly._

_"Come, Neffy, you are the Pharaoh's daughter! The daughter of a god! Surely you can have Rik-hpš as easily as any other man."_

_"Yes, but it is not the same as having marriage."_

_"That has not stopped me," Anuk-sun-amun boasted. She immediately gasped. "What have I done?" she whispered, the color draining from her face behind the paint._

_"Oh Suni, don't tell me you are having a tryst!" Neffy whispered, eyes wide with horror. "What if papa found out?"_

_"Please say you will tell no one!" Anuk-sun-amun begged, falling on her knees before her sister. "I beg of you!"_

_"Of course, Suni. I would not dream of it," Neffy reassured her. She looked around for listeners. "But with who?"_

_"Swear to tell no one," Anuk-sun-amun pressed._

_"I swear to Ra himself," Nefertiti breathed. _

_"Very well." Drawing close to her sister's ear she whispered, "Every four nights, when the Pharaoh busies himself with the other members of his harem, I am free to do as I wish in the palace. Each of those nights I need not attend to him, I… I sneak into the High Priest's bedchamber. I think that Seth and this third of mine are both his."_

_"Suni!" Nefertiti's hand flew to her mouth in shock. "Oh Suni…"_

_"You promised! You swore, Neffy…"_

_"I know! I know. I shall not breathe a word. I –" Nefertiti broke off and paled as she looked beyond Anuk-sun-amun's shoulder. The Pharaoh's wife stood hastily and turned. She relaxed as she saw who it was._

_"My Lord High Priest," she murmured, bowing her head. _

_"Lady Nefertiti. Anuk-sun-amun…" The High Priest's voice was smooth and oily, and it sent shivers up and down Nefertiti's spine as she stood beside her sister. "I did not mean to interrupt."_

_"You did not," Anuk-sun-amun assured him swiftly. Sending a glance Neffy's way, she went to him and placed her hand seductively upon his chest. They shared a look, and Nefertiti quailed beneath the High Priest's black piercing gaze._

_"You trust her?" he heard him murmur to Anuk-sun-amun. Nefertiti's sister turned around and looked at her._

_"With my life."_

Alex, despite his grogginess, fought off the stupor and managed to focus his mind. He immediately wished he was completely unconscious. He had a blinding headache, made worse by the jolting movement that shook his entire body. Nonetheless, he held back the groan he wanted to express and strained to make out the voices of his captors.

"Hai-vw… hut n'maahd…"

Alex's eyebrows quirked in the darkness of the bag over his head. They were speaking an extremely gritty and incorrect version of Ancient Egyptian and he could barely make any of it out, save for one word: _eye_.

"The Eye of Sehkmet!" he breathed, barely remembering to keep his voice down. _These are the Tuaregs that were after Ardeth and Aunt Jami_, he thought to himself. He wished he could see; without any knowledge of his outward situation – except that he had been slung over the back of a smelly camel like a sack of potatoes – he had literally no chance of freeing himself. He groaned silently and lay limp, eager for nightfall when he would be covered by darkness.

"What have you done with my son?" Rick roared as he pinned the shocked Imhotep to the side of the aisle.

"What…?

"Must I spell it out for you? What have you done…WITH ALEX?"

"He is not in car?"

"No."

"Then I do not know."

"Rick, what is going on?" Ardeth, a hand in the satchel where his knife was, approached them, ready for a fight.

"Alex is missing. Again." Rick glared at the two of them as though it was solely their fault. "And Imhotep supposedly didn't have a hand in it."

"Are you sure of that?"

"What must I do to get your trust?" Imhotep demanded in frustration. "I have tried everything."

"Kill yourself," Ardeth shot back. Rick grabbed his wrist in time to stop him from pulling out his weapon.

"No. I have an idea."

"Enlighten me," Ardeth muttered between gritted teeth.

"Imhotep; you and Jami will go hunting for Rick. Jami knows this new territory, and you know how to deal with the enemy. Find him within a week. If you have not rejoined us within a fortnight, Evy and I, and Ardeth too, if he insists, will search for you ourselves."

"What about contact?" Ardeth inquired.

"Kapri. When we get to Aïsha's, we will send her out to you."

"Kapri…?" Imhotep asked.

"Her carrier pigeon," Rick replied shortly. "You and Jami need to get going now. Ardeth, you get her and notify her. All clear?"

"Yes," the two men answered in unison. They glanced at one another, the enmity clear between them.

"Good. Now go, before I lose my patience."

"I can't believe we've lost him again," Evy whispered in the dark. All was still and silent – Cairo's usual havoc was down to a dull roar.

"We haven't lost him. He just… took a detour."

"His detours are going to be the death of me," she told her husband sincerely. He grasped her hand and felt how cold it was.

"Evy, Evy, dear Evelyn… you need to calm down," he murmured in her ear. Putting his arms around her, he held her close. "I trust Jami to find Alex. You trust Imhotep to find Alex. What can go wrong?"

"Many things," Evy replied. Her voice held an ominous tremor. Rick did not reply.

Jasmine found that her mission was harder than expected. She constantly kept one eye on Imhotep the entire time as they tracked a caravan of nomads through the shifting sands. They had been lucky the first two days; there had been no wind to stir the dunes and eternally erase the footprints they followed like a gold thread to the end of the Minotaur's maze.

And then there was a minor sandstorm. Both extremely experienced in such weather, they had hastily erected a shelter and waited it out. However, once they reemerged into the sunshine, there was no sign of the tracks anywhere.

"Damn," she muttered, scanning the horizon. She could only pray that Alex's captors hadn't subjected him to the storm.

Much to her surprise, Imhotep bent to the ground and picked up a small handful of sand. Bringing it to his nose, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Then he stuck his tongue out and licked it. Jami's mouth dropped open.

"What on Earth are you _doing_?"

One eye opened and he squinted at her. "Who was born and raised on this _taa_?" _(…sand?)_

"But you… you're _tasting_ it? How will that help?"

He ignored her demands to answer him, however, and let the sand filter through his fingers as he studied it closely. Disgusted with him, Jami turned and began to pack up camp, muttering to herself as she did so; keeping one eye on him the entire time. Ardeth had warned her of Imhotep's potential, and she didn't plan on letting down her guard just for a few answers.

The middle-aged Egyptian woman did not stand out of the crowd. The Egyptian bazaar was so crowded, it was doubtful than anyone would have stood out. This woman was special nonetheless. Her name was Aïsha.

Liquid brown eyes searched the crowd over the heads of the traders and sellers bartering and crying their wares. Dressed very conservatively in a brown cotton smock and sandals, a rough burlap shawl wrapped tightly around her head and a self-woven basket of reeds, she seemed hardly the sort that a man like Rick O'Connell would be looking for. Nevertheless, he was.

"There you are! We've been searching for you for hours," Rick grinned as he lifted the petite woman easily with one hand. She swatted him with her basket, eyes sparkling.

"And greeting to you too, Cowboy," she replied in a thick accent.

"Thank goodness you found her." Evy pushed through the crowd to her husband's side and the two women embraced.

"But where is Little Son?" Aïsha murmured, worry written all over her face.

"Captured," Evy replied with downcast eyes. "Two of our party are on his trail."

"For now, this is Ardeth," Rick interrupted with false heartiness. Ardeth was alarmed to find her eyes running up and down his figure thoroughly before she nodded with one crisp motion.

"Good. We have body guard." She turned to Rick and Evy. "You, follow me. We will be home before dark."

Jasmine, despite her fury, had no choice but to follow Imhotep as he strode over the desert sands, pausing every so often to kneel and perform the sand experiment over and over. She had no call to be stranded in the middle of the desert. Although she could take care of herself and keep herself alive in such conditions long enough to find help, she had no idea where she was. No landmarks sprouted from the desolate sand to give their position away. Only the endless sun, rising and falling each day, pointed out the direction in which they constantly traveled: west. Yet even that soon became uncertain in the mind-scrambling heat. Perhaps the movements of the sun had changed. Perhaps it was no rising in the north and falling in the south. The only thing that kept Jami going was knowing that Alex was out there, possibly suffering at the hands of his captors.

On the fourth day, Imhotep was stopping yet again to study the sands. Squatting on his heels, he stirred the ands before him with his fingertips and brought it up in his palm to sniff it. Maintaining her steely composure, Jami managed not to drop to the ground in exhaustion, but kneeled and unscrewed the cap on her canteen. The pace Imhotep set was, in her opinion, ridiculous.

"They change their course," he murmured under his breath in broken English.

"What?"

"They are heading for _Dsr Niwt_."

"Holy City…?"

"Yes. Hidden canyon. North of here."

"Here?" Jami laughed. "Where is here?"

"We are…" Imhotep frowned and sighed in frustration. "Giza. The _mr_."

"The Pyramids at Giza?"

"Yes, yes." He waved his hand impatiently. "_Imntt_ many miles of here." _(West…)_

"Oh. We have gone that far?"

"Yes. The _H'py_ is close." _(…Nile…)_

"Good. I'm almost out of water." Jami began to rise. To her surprise, Imhotep offered her his hand. She looked at it for a moment, and then accepted it hesitantly.

"_Ii-t_," he said bluntly before turning away and striding off into the noontide sun. _(You're welcome.)_

The sun was beginning to sink into the west when the sand gradually became grass, and bushes and small trees began to appear. As they went further northeast, they left the desert behind, and the work of the Nile began to show. At about five thirty they came upon the Nile.

"Bravo, we've reached a body of water," Jami muttered. "Now what?"

"You lead now. See?" And he pointed. Jami flushed in embarrassment as she saw the obviously broken branches of a flowering bush. Going to a small rivulet, Jami filled her canteen.

"You are sure they are headed for the Dsr Niwt?"

"Wrt." _(Absolutely.)_

"All right then. Off we go."

Aïsha's home was on the outskirts of the abandoned city of Hamunaptra, a modest whitewashed adobe home with many skylights imported from China. Although the first floor was of packed earth, it cooled the rooms and kept out the blistering desert heat. The second floor was of wood, but a layer of slate served the same purpose as the dirt of the first floor. The entire house was built on raised wooden supports and each wall had a space between to allow air circulation.

Ardeth, as in any house he stayed in, immediately felt uneasy. Living indoors always oppressed him; he lived outdoors, in the harsh wildness of the Egyptian sands on horseback. Living in a house was against all his principles; and Aïsha saw it.

"Loosen up, horse man," she told him, all but pushing him into a chair. Rick laughed at him.

"You've got a woman on you now, Ardeth. You'd better do as she says." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "I would know. Evy's a terrible – ouch! Hey, no ganging up on us poor defenseless males!"

"Poor defenseless males my foot," Evy muttered as a sly smile spread across Aïsha's face.

"We will have fun with you two, eh Evelyn?"

"A lot of fun," Evy replied, grinning as Rick and Ardeth cowered in terror.

The sun was barely breaking over the horizon on the fifth day of their search when they reached the Holy City. The horizon flat as far as the eye could see, Jami took no notice of Imhotep's caution and nearly fell right into it.

Walking briskly, refreshed from a good night's sleep, Jasmine strode right past Imhotep; and suddenly the ground opened up in front of her. Throwing her weight backwards, she landed on her shoulder blades and elbows in the sand. Disturbed, the gritty, arid earth began to slide down, taking Jami with it. She barely had time to scream before Imhotep landed hard on his stomach behind her and grabbed her armpit.

Jami's vision wavered as she looked down hundreds of feet to the canyon floor. Imhotep's grip on her shifted and her spine stiffened in terror.

"Don't let me go! For God's sake, _don't let me go!!!_" she shrieked, flailing in panic.

"Stop wiggling!" Imhotep hollered above her noise. "Aab! Wnn wsr, 'h'…" _(Stop! Be strong, stand fast…)_

"Stop yelling at me and pull me up!" Jami screamed.

Imhotep fell silent and bent his head, back heaving as he caught his breath. "All right. Ab paay-t s-'haa." _(Cease your struggling.)_

"I'm ceasing already," Jami whimpered, frantically trying to block the fact that she was hanging precariously off a cliff with a several hundred foot drop below her in her mind. "What's taking so long?"

"I… there's a… a snake. In front of my _hr_." _(…face.)_

"Oh God…" Jami whispered, clutching his fingers as they gripped her upper arm tightly. "W-what kind?"

"Sy?" _(What?)_

"M ima???" _(What kind???)_

"Erm… poison?"

Jasmine growled. "No, really!"

"Really!"

"Oh!" Jami groaned. "It's called SARCASM you prehistoric dolt! I don't care if there's a TARANTULA staring you in the face, just _get me UP!"_

"Fine! I will!"

With a sickening swing that temporarily dizzied Jasmine beyond comprehension, Imhotep rolled onto his back, latched his lower arm around her chest, and heaved her up onto hardened sand. She immediately sprung away, looking about for the snake. She felt her shoulders turn to iron as a she came face to face with the hypnotic gaze of a spitting cobra.

"Jamidon'tmove…" Imhotep breathed. For once, Jami obeyed. A vicious itch started on her forehead as a drop of sweat trickled down her skin, but she didn't move. Her fingers dug into the sand like claws into prey as her hazel eyes fixed, riveted, on the swinging head of the serpent…

_Gradually, S-hd-iwn __became aware of a very gentle hum. Although she dared not bat an eyelash, her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of Him kneeling, slowly but surely, into the sand. Moments passed where she swore she could feel her heartbeat pounding in her throat; and the hum grew louder. Then, to her amazement, the cobra's inner eyelids began to sink down, and its once purposeful swaying became more and more dreamlike… Until at last He extended his arm and slid his palm up the gleaming scales. As though it had been waiting for support, the cobra relaxed, winding loosely around His forearm and resting its head lazily – and quite harmlessly – on the back of his hand. (_A/N: I pronounce it seh-HID-oon… it means 'Illuminated Pillar' or 'Pillar of Light'

"You can get up now," Imhotep said quietly.

"Wha…?" Jasmine shook her head to clear it and shivered as she watched Imhotep gently stroking the head of the now-docile serpent. What had happened?

"The danger is passed. Come. We have lost much time."

"Cats?" Ardeth muttered to himself as he awoke, groggy, from a restless night's sleep. He sneezed violently, startling the Egyptian shorthair curled on his chest. His next words were more of a gag-wheeze. "Why cats?"

"You sleep well? Good," Aïsha said without waiting for a reply as she entered the room and threw open the blinds. Raw sunlight pierced Ardeth's eyes and he groaned.

"Away, woman. And take your be-damned cats with you."

"Sha! Do not scorn cats. They are messengers of the gods," Aïsha spat at him, hitting him on the head with her apron.

"Rumor and superstition," Ardeth scoffed, but he was extra gentle with the shorthair and the tortoiseshell as he lifted them off his body. His hostess merely eyed him distrustfully and left, the two cats at her heels.

Rick woke up alone. Patting the lumpy mattress next to him, he felt the warmth of his wife's body. She could not have left too long ago.

Swinging out of bed, he threw on a shirt and left the room. He cleared his eyes of the night's grit as he climbed the stairs to the roof where the daily wash water heated up in the early morning sunlight. As he stepped onto the flat stucco, he saw that Evy had gotten here first, and was meditating in the predawn glow that grew steadily on the eastern horizon…

_Rik-hpš's steps were heavy as he patrolled the Northern Garden Wall. Ahead of him, he could see the sunlight breaking over the eastern mountains. The North Gate gleamed golden as night's dark was shattered by the consuming fire of dawn, blazing like a torch in the Pharaoh's Throne Room. Pausing by it, he lifted gray eyes to the garden's many pools. _

_As though a thunderbolt had struck him to the ground, he froze, unable to move. There, from the lily pool, rose a beautiful young woman, lifting slender arms, laden with petals, to the sky. Water dripped from her bared body; the sun silhouetted her naked figure against the flowered vines that hung about the pool. The _Medjai_ captain shivered despite the warmth of the spring air. Suddenly, to his horror, his spear slipped from his grasp to clang noisily against the North Gate. The girl spun around, clasping an armful of flowers to her breasts as their eyes met. Rik-hpš groaned inwardly as he saw her face. It was Nefertiti, daughter of the Pharaoh._

_He was about to snatch his spear and run when Nefertiti let the flowers she held fall back into the pool. Rik's stomach dropped to his knees as she stepped out of the pool, a single lily cupped in her hands. His breath ragged, he watched as she approached him, every step as fluid as the Nile. Finally only a few cubits and a golden gate separated them. She held out the lily, silently._

_"My lady…"_

_"Shh." She extended one white arm and touched his sun-browned lips with her finger. In a moment that seemed predestined, she dropped her hand to his and, through the bars, put the lily into it. "Take it."_

_"I…"_

_"Meet me here tonight, when the watch has changed." One hand slid open-palmed down his bare chest. "We have much to discuss."_

"Rick? Rick!"

"Hm? What? Oh! Evy…" Rick's voice trailed off as he found himself looking into the same face he had been not moments before. He smiled weakly. "Hello."

"Daydreaming?" she asked with a whimsical smile.

"Yeah." He lifted a hand and traced the half-moon of her cheek with his fingers. _Fingers that had held the spear of Seti the First_…

"Rick?"

"Hm?"

"You're doing it again."

"Sorry." This time his smile was slightly forced. "Come on. Let's go see what Aïsha's made for breakfast."

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**Voila! I hope you enjoyed it. I will try to update as soon as possible, but I do not think it will be until the New Year. I'm going to Florida for a week and Internet connection isn't a definite. Anyway...**

**Christmas cookies to all my reviewers wink and Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone. **

**Regards,**

**Dark Rose of Heaven**

**PS: Cubits is a Hebrew measurement I used for the sake of the story (aka, to make it sound cooler. :))**


	8. Rescue

Many thanks to NajaMoonshadow for urging me on, and many apologies to all of you who have continued to wait! I have not yet abandoned this story; I am merely waiting for inspiration to strike while I play with the characters and pester my family for ideas. :-) Here's eight - I bet you can guess what happens...

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Eight

**Rescue**

Alex lay on his stomach in the tent allotted him, playing with the sand. There was nothing better to do. He had tried to escape twice; bad mistake. There were four guards watching him – two in front, two in back. There was no way he was getting out. Not unless his mom and dad had come after him. Even if they had, there was virtually no chance of them surviving in the desert while searching for him for the length of time he had been held. They didn't have the proper equipment, or the training. Maybe Da did, but they had no way of knowing where he was, especially after the sandstorm…

"Are you sure this is the – ouch! – way?" Jasmine hissed as Imhotep led the way down the jagged rock face. Vines and tropical plants hung all around them, and the occasional wicked thorn dug itself into Jami's skin.

"Yes. Maa'-e," Imhotep replied, spitting out a mouthful of leaves. _(Trust me.)_

They had been descending for half an hour into the muggy crevice in the middle of the Egyptian desert. As they went, green plants became less and less scarce, eventually giving way to an entire exotic forest clinging to the cliff face. The occasional strange bird or animal life peered out of the enormous leafy verdance, blinking large yellow eyes at them curiously. Truth be told, it spooked Jasmine a little bit, especially after the cobra incident, but she didn't dare complain. Imhotep would just give her a withering look and leave her to fend for herself.

Speaking of the cobra, Imhotep had decided to keep it for a companion, and it was now wound comfortably around his neck; hanging in lazy loops over his chest. Trying not to look at its almost human expression, Jami worked her way carefully down among the vines.

Suddenly there was no rock below her. Her feet slipped and scrabbled, scraping her toes against the harsh rock, and she half-screamed, biting it off before it could echo. Breathing hard, she dangled, her knuckles white as her finger gripped the cliff face. Hands behind her enclosed her waist, and she stiffened.

"You are _'__d_," said Imhotep's voice humorously from behind her. "Let go." _(…safe.)_

Her face redder than that of a sunburned tourist, Jami released her death grip and Imhotep lowered her the last half-foot to the ground. Shaking off his hands in embarrassment, Jami walked a few steps away from him, shaking out her sore arms and legs rather loudly in the underbrush. Imhotep's ridicule transformed instantly into iron awareness as he wrapped one arm around her waist and sealed her mouth shut with his free hand.

"_Hri_!" he whispered. _(Be quiet!)_ "Do you want them to _s__d__m-n_?" _(…hear us?)_

Jami tried to reply, but his hand prevented her from doing anything but working her jaw muscles angrily. Imhotep ignored her struggles as easily as though he was merely holding a limp leaf between pinched fingers and lifted his head, sniffing the wind eerily.

"Come." He released her so suddenly she nearly collapsed into the undergrowth, and strode off through the jungle. Settling herself, Jami jogged after him as quietly as she could, that damn cobra watching her from the High Priest's shoulder the entire time.

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"Wakey wakey, little _ms_. Time to work for yer sup." _(Kid)_

Alex was hauled up from his position in the dim tent by the back of his collar, waking him up from a very pleasant dream involving sherbet and cold bathwater – something he had never thought he'd long for. Flailing his arms in brief confusion, he was quickly subdued with a sharp rap to the head.

"Oi! Quit yer faggin'."

"Talk proper English and I might," Alex muttered under his breath.

"'Ey? Wat's that?"

"Nothing."

Still suspicious, and smelling like something infinitely unmentionable caught out in the heat of the desert, his captor dragged him out into the light of a harsh Egyptian noonday sun. For the first time, Alex got a good look at the camp. Two men, presumably asleep, were lounging around a dying fire; junk and refuse littered the site. Alex grimaced as his captor pushed something resembling the burnt-ends of some sort of meat under his nose.

"Turnin' up yer nose at perfictly good food, eh? I'll teach ye a lesson fer that." Alex didn't see the meaty fist swinging in his direction until it was too late. With a smack and a solid _wump_ as he landed on his back, the air knocked out of him.

The thick-headed Egyptian was overcome in a second. Something flew from the underbrush and landed on his back, pushing him to the ground. Immediately there was a soft rustle of scales on sand, and he was soon sinking into the death-sleep of serpentine hypnosis.

Meanwhile, Alex watched in shock as Jasmine slid out from behind a cluster of rocks, knocking the reawakening men unconscious with a well-placed stone and binding them tightly. Imhotep, breathing hard, rose from the man's back and stepped well around his new pet, allowing it room to do its work. He gave Alex his hand, and the boy was upright momentarily.

"Are you hurt?" the priest demanded roughly, looking him over with oddly gentle movements that were uncharacteristically parental. "Did they do anything to you?"

"No sir," Alex replied, nearly hopping with excitement as his boyishness overcame his terror and served to revitalize him in hopes of adventure. "At least… I don't think so. They gave me something gross-tasting last night, but it didn't hurt me."

Imhotep looked at Jami. "What is… groes?"

"Gross. Means disgusting. _Bïn._" _(Miserable, undesirable)_

He nodded in comprehension. "That may be not good."

Alex giggled. "Bad."

"Bad. No good. Same thing," grumbled Imhotep. He stood. "Come. Evy will be waiting."

"Mom's here somewhere?" Alex asked eagerly, trotting along between the two adults as they left the clearing.

"No. Far away," Imhotep grunted. He glared down at the tow-headed boy, so eager for adventure. "It will be hard, getting back."

"I know. I helped chase you, remember?"

Imhotep only smiled.


End file.
